


Entertain Me, Baby!

by Dhyana



Series: In and out Cell #42 [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dom!Peter, Entertainment Competition, Fighting Arena, He's the king of cup songs, Knowhere, M/M, Peter can sing, Ronan is still a little hurt, Steve Rogers wouldn't like the used LANGUAGE, Sub!Ronan, extra points if you count all used 'fucks', quick deaths, staged after Cell#42, then it's Dom!Ronan 8D, until the Kree has enough of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 23:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5804074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dhyana/pseuds/Dhyana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After they land on Knowhere, Peter and Ronan get approached by a man who is looking for some fine warriors. Of course it takes Ronan just a few seconds to show who's the one in charge here. Yet, after a few happenings, Peter shows that he also is made out of captain-material...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entertain Me, Baby!

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. I am very sorry that my updates take ages but I assure you that I am still working on fanfics!  
> This one here is the final piece of Cell#42, yet you're more than welcome to form your own scenarios and "how it should have ended" :D
> 
> Didn't have a beta, so ... 'enjyo this ff as besd as you could'.

Knowhere. He had known that this place existed, as it was discussed in law school as a valuable black market, set up by the Tivan family. Yet it had always been too insignificant for the Kree Empire to take total control over. He had never been there until the tattooed brute had made the transmission to the Dark Aster, revealing the Guardian's hideaway and hence the location of the orb. It had been the most satisfying feeling for him to know that his goal - retrieving the orb - had been so close at that time, while the Dark Aster had hovered in space and overshadowed the severed head of the ancient like a predator waiting to strike.

As he had set foot onto the unpaved walkway, however, the brute had unexpectedly challenged him. _How pitiful that one had been._ A smirk lingered on the Kree's lips for mere seconds. It was calming him down to memorize his triumphs, remembering who he was, and due to that being able to blissfully blending out the pain he was enduring at this very moment.

Strolling along the same unpaved walkway, though this time with Star-Lord at his side instead of Nebula, was something he would never have imagined. He was even wearing similar clothes, like the ones the tattooed guardian had worn. He had also travelled across the Quadrant in the same space ship. This lifestyle wasn't meant for him, he already knew that, but right now he had no better option.

The bandages underneath his clothing were really nagging him, chafing on his sore skin, and every step he made was putting more and more pressure on wounds and healing soft tissue. The constant pain was truly maddeing, but despite all that he managed to keep up a good pace and his grand strides. After all, he was a seasoned Kree warrior and not some effeminate coward. Concealing his pain was a skill he had learned when he was a little boy - this wouldn't bring him down.

The more it pleased him when an unknown man was approaching them with some sweet talk from the side, seeing in him what he had began to doubt:

"Good sir, your physique and bearing speak of a true warrior! You may be up for a challenge?"

The man was small, with honey colored skin and clad in a fancy white suit with polished shoes. His hair was dark as ebony and neatly combet back. His mustache was equally well maintained and, while he twirled it with gloved hands, he gave both of them a very inviting look.

"I am sure you will enjoy it!"

Ronan scrutinized the man and tried to guess what kind of invitation he was speaking of. One could never be so sure in a place like this, where outlaws and misfits reigned, yet Star-Lord ruined it for him:

"What type of challenge?" the Terran blurted. "Will there be prizes?"

"Oh, of course! I am looking for men and women and all sorts of creatures who are up for a fight. And, well, no offense meant but I think your blue friend might be more suited for it. So ..." The man turned and gave all his attention to Ronan, "As I said, by your looks, you will make it high up into the ranking. You'll sweep through like a breeze, good sir. Please, have a look!"

The man made way and pointed with his gloved hand into the direction of a large iron door. Above the door were blinky lights writing 'Doorway to Hel' into the nightly sky and in front of it was a short queue of participants.

"A fighting pit!" Star-Lord nudged Ronan into the side, who still hadn't said anything. "Dude, you're born for that!"

A low, approving growl was the Kree's answer. He wouldn't just make it high up into the ranks, he would dominate this ridiculous wannabe fight club. If there was one thing in his live he could do best, then it was Kree Martial Arts. Though what kept him from instantely accepting the challenge was the fact that his body was injured. The participants outside were all no match for him, but what if he accepted and inside the pit would be a Yautja or any other advanced species waiting? His chances of winning would still be very high, because most strong creatures were as dumb as the tattooed brute. He began to ponder some possibilities in his mind and eventually had an idea:

"Show me the leading champion."

"Oooh! Please! Please follow me!" With a big grin on his face, the advertiser bowed down and then began to quickly move towards the iron door. Clapping his hands and shooing some kids away, he made room for the newly caught participant. As they passed the queue, they heard low mutterings, insults and one of the waiting beings even spit in front of Star-Lord's shoes.

"Please excuse this, sir. Just don't mind them," the small man apologized, "They lost too many fights and aren't welcome here anymore." He gesticulated with his hands and rushed them through the hardly illuminated corridor into the main hall.

As they arrived there, Star-Lord's eyes widened. It seemed to Ronan that the Terran had never been in a fighting arena before, reading this from his 50% excited, 50% scared face expression. The hall was vast, brightly lit up by large spotlights, filled with stuffy air and up to the ceiling with screeching and screaming spectators, while two men were showing off a bloody fight in the round metal cage in the center. Deafening howls and cheers were making the round when one man lost his balance, doomed to die right in front of their eyes. Mere seconds after the winner had finished his opponent, another fighter stormed into the cage and a new unarmed fight began.

Above the cage hung a huge digital clock, counting minutes and seconds. It seemed that the winner had been fighting for 10 minutes so far, until he stumbled over his former victim and thereby experienced the same fate. The clock resetted and the sheer endless flow of willing fighters continued to fill the cage, one after another, whilst corpses were simultaneously being dragged out of it.

 _A good way to obtain organic resources_ , Ronan thought as he watched how the lifeless bodies were being brought into a room on the other side of the arena. _Brilliant!_

"Well, this round will soon finish and the next type of fight will be with a pyramid sheme," the advertiser began to explain. "There will be a lottery where each participant will get an opponent assigned and the one who triumphs and climbs up to the top will have the chance to fight our champion in the end. If he manages to win, he will recieve the grand prize!"

"I hope you're speaking of Units," Star-Lord chimed in.

"Yes! Lots of Units! Today it's half a million."

Ronan, as uninterested in money as a rich snob could be, only wanted to know one thing: "Who is the current champion? Show him to me."

"Sure! You can see him standing right there," the man pointed at a massive, turqouise mountain of flesh.

 _That is their champion?_ , Ronan couldn't believe it and started to laugh.

Peter, however, took a step back and swallowed. He hadn't seen such a huge man in quite some time. Last time back in the Kyln. The underarms of that man-beast were at least as thick as his upper tights, the shoulders and chest so broad that the Terran could hardly imagine how that guy had fitted through the door and all in all he would never dare to pick up a fight with him in a trillion years. Though, what Ronan did was bewildering him even more. The deep, raspy laughter of the genocidal maniac was chilling him to the bone.

"Advertiser, that champion of yours is no challenge for me. You're insulting me by even considering him as a worthy opponent," Ronan shook his head, still chuckling and already turning to leave.

"Wait! Please, don't leave. I bet you will have your fun then. Enter the competition if you're so sure that you will win!" The promoter really didn't want Ronan to leave, he even grabbed one of his arms and held him back. He saw that the blue warrior had lots of potential, yet his true reason, why he didn't want to let go, was that he would get paid a huge amount of money as well if it was him who would bring in the competitor who would unthrone the current champion.

Annoyed that the man had touched him, Ronan yanked his arm free: "There is no one in this whole arena who would be a worthy opponent!"  
That was actually a lie. The Kree had spotted five creatures who could make winning problematic. The bandages were inhibiting his full range of motion, dried puss and crusts even more so. They hadn't had enough time to fix new bandages, because, as they had landed on Knowhere, the Terran had jumped out of the M-Ship as soon as it had touched the ground. Star-Lord had argueed that they would need supplies first, leaving Ronan and his inquiry to change the bandages unheard, because 'you surely can suck it up for a few more minutes'. Now, Ronan needed to circumvent the risk of getting paired up with those five strong creatures and conceal his disadvantge at the same time. Luckily, the promoter wasn't one of the more clever beings of the universe, so Ronan gave his quickly but ill-conceived tactic a shot:

"You want me to deliver a show?" He teased and could instantely see that the man's interest had sparked. "I bet I can kill your champion within 10 seconds."

Star-Lord's mouth just dropped open. As did the advertiser's.

"I ... I beg your pardon!?" The promoter stuttered.

"Your current champion is nothing but a waste of space."

"That ... that ... no, he reigns here since 3 years!"

"And I will bring him down, just for you. I know that it won't _only_ be me who will get paid then." The Kree's face turned dark, menacing, yet promising.

At those words, the man looked around, scared that someone might be listening. He was clearly in distress, swallowing hard. This was _his chance_ , the man knew, but also a huge risk. He started to ruffle through his hair and bit his lips.

"Okay, you have a deal, good sir!" He eventually agreed.

"Oh, no," Ronan slowly made a dismissive gesture with his hands, "You are missing a crucial point: 10 seconds of my time are a lot more worth than mere 500.000 Units. We have a deal if you pledge 2 million."

"2 million?" The man squealed suddenly, drawing attention to their little group but directly shutting himself up by raising his hands in front of his mouth. He ducked down a little and began to speak again with a lower voice: "You... you're ruining me! I am not even the manager of this arena!"

"Well, then good bye." Ronan turned abruptly and began to walk into the direction of the exit. _If he's not rising to that bait..._

" _Wait!_ " - the Kree halted - "Okay..."  
The prospect of money and freedom was always too tempting. Especially for specimens who were prone to manipulation. Also, 2 million Units were nothing for a fighting arena like this. They earned that with one healthy heart and two livers.  
Without any hesitation, the advertiser dashed towards the metal cage, not daring to lose any more seconds. The last corpse was dragged out and the overall winner of the prior round just received his prize to his Comm.

The promoter rose to his toes, grabbed after a dangling microphone and with an enormous voice, he announced: "Ladies and Gentlemen! Today, you will be witnesses to a spectacular fight! Our champion is being directly challenged!"

A loud uproar travelled through the arena and the turqouise beast began to pound with his balled fists against his chest.

"Be ready for the fight of the evening! Fillion, please, come to the cage!"

The flesh mountain set into motion and was firing up the atmosphere, letting the whole air vibrate with his roars, lifting his arms, clapping his hands and shouting paroles. As he squeezed his huge body into the cage, the whole arena was utterly out of control. The audience loved their champion and they made it crystal clear for whom they were rooting.

"Ronan-" Star-Lord whispered, "You're sure you wanna do this?"

With one of the most arrogant scoffs Peter had ever recieved in his life, the Kree turned and entered the cage through a corridor which the crowd opened up for him. They were booing loudly and mocking him, shouting that his blue fuckface would get caved in and that he will cry for his bitch of a mother, pleading for mercy, while Fillion would drag his mauled body around the pit.

"... aaaaand the contender, ladies and gentlemen!"

Even more angry booing and shouts filled the air. The crowd went nuts and it was hard for Peter to hold his ground and not getting pushed around like a ragdoll. As he struggled to stay in his position he realized that, actually, he wanted to see the fight without anyone being in front of him. Forcefully shoving single bystanders to the side, he began to squeeze through the masses. Various creatures recognized him as the friend of the contender while he passed through, instantely starting to shout mean comments at him as well; that his friend was going to get torn into pieces, that he should run while he still could, because Fillion was going to make him his little pet for the night when the fight was over. Ignoring all of that, Peter elbowed his way further through the crowd, up to the first row. He locked his fingers through the chain-link cage and stared at Ronan. The Kree normally towered above him, but now, compared to the champion, he looked small. And weak. And doomed. The promoter also didn't look that sure anymore. _That prick! It's a trap!_

"Position yourselves! If you hear the bell, the fight starts," the small man locked eyes with Ronan, then with Fillion and lastly nodded. "Ladies and gentlemen, let's get ready to ruuuuumble!"

He sprinted out of the cage and as soon as the gate was shut behind him, a shrill bell rang once, starting the fight. What followed was surreal on so many levels for Peter, that he only stood there wide-eyed:

 **Second 1** The Kree squated slightly down and then began to charge towards the reigning champion, who also prepared to attack...

 **Second 2** ... yet, being too slow and heavy - and surprised of how fast his opponent was - Fillion wasn't able to dogde Ronan's first strike. The blue warrior jumped up mere moments before they would clash, performing a bone shattering drop kick against the champion's chest.

 **Second 3** While Fillion stumbled backwards onto the ground, Ronan materalized the force of the impact into a backflip. He landed ...

 **Second 4** ... on his feet but instantely jumped up again, not wasting a split of a second. Fillion, being too stunned to act and lying helplessly on his back, saw that the Kree was already hovering above him when his senses returned.

 **Second 5** Carefully arranging his position mid-flight, Ronan came down and rammed his heels into Fillion's ripcage, through bones, lungs and heart, with such a force, that the comminution was audible even in the last rows of the fighting arena. A painfull groan echoed through the now dead-silent arena, as no one really understood what was happening.

 **Second 6** Standing inside of the ripcage of the immobilized champion, Ronan seized the moment, crouched down and dug his fingernails into the flesh under Fillion's jaw.

 **Second 7** Accumulating all his strenght, the Kree began to roar, yanked once, twice, at the head until it finally yielded and tore off from the neck.

 **Second 8** To end this embarrassingly easy fight, Ronan dashed the severed skull against the metal cage, exactly at the spot where the promoter was watching in horror.

The shrill bell rang twice, halting the digital clock at precisely 8 seconds.

 _Holy shit_ , Peter blew out some air, _holy shit fuck what._  
Did that just happen?

Ronan stepped down from the lifeless body of the former champion, slendering towards the promoter and the severed head. His hands were dripping with violet blood and his shoes left bloody footprints with every step. His muscles were still twitching, pumped with adrenaline, and his purple eyes were burning, yet had a weird empty expression. As he stood in front of the trembling small man, and only the webbed cage was between them, he waited for a few moments and then hit with his open palms against the metal. The loud noise woke up everyone from their trance-like state. Not only the advertiser yowled and flinched backwards, also half of the surrounding creatures were terrified and wanted to flee.

With a low and threatening voice, he growled at the advertiser: "My part of the deal is done, _good sir_."

"Yes ... yes, sure! You won! I ..."

Suddenly, a door at the other side of the arena swung open and a really enraged ogre-like man with huge tusks rolled out of it. He cursed and screamed and pushed everyone aside who was in his way. His skin was a light orange, only his head had turned red, and his thick, sweaty body looked all but nice. He stomped into the cage, battered the lifeless body of the champion even more and cursed unstoppably. After his frustration and rage had slightly settled - he only needed to kick the corpse five more times - he targeted his eyes onto Ronan.

"You ..." He growled and spat onto the corpse. Though, when he saw that the small promoter was standing behind the Kree, he began to shout again.

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" Setting into motion, the enraged guy came next to Ronan and hit the cage with his open palms as well. "Did you little fucker bring that guy in here? Are you fucking out of your mind?"

"Sir ... I ... please, let me explain!"

"NO! You shut yer fucking mouth when I talk! Don't you see that this blue fuckface is a fucking Kree warrior?"

"Manager, please ..."

"SHUT UP! What the fuck is so hard with not getting any trained warriors in here, you fucking son of a bitch?"

"I ... I didn't know!"

"Oh, for fucks sake. JUST LOOK AT HIM! Does he look like a motherfucking mortal to you? DOES HE?"

When the small promoter wanted to answer again, Star-Lord, who had just arrived out of the masses, pushed him to the side: "Yo, man, sorry to interrupt you here but can we get our money please?"

"AND WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!?" The manager shouted at the Terran now.

An icy cold voice cut through the rage of the arena leader and silenced him instantely: " _Don't_ speak to him like that." Ronan finally engaged in this odd conversation and drew all the attention to himself. "You owe me." His lilac eyes burned full with blood lust and his demeanour underlined it even more so that he would tear this place down if the manager or the promoter would drop the deal.

Realizing that it would be the worst idea of his life to challenge the Kree, the manager caved in: "Fine! YES! Give me your fucking Comm and I'll transfer you your fucking half million."

"Oh, no. Your employee of the month accepted a deal. You owe me 2 million," Ronan's expression turned into an angry, yet also wickedly grinning one, baring his black teeth.

"WHAT!?" Turning his head and looking back at the advertiser, the manager's head suddenly switched its color from red to green. His eyes killed the small man over and over again, though when he began to mumble through gritted teeth, speaking to Ronan again, he surpressed his temper: "Give me yer fucking Comm. _Now!_ "

Ronan locked his eye's with Star-Lord's and tilted his head, gesticulating that he should hand over his Comm. Surprised that he suddenly had to do something, Peter searched his pockets and eventually handed his eWallet through a bigger hole of the webbed cage. After only a few moments the transaction was done and the manager handed it back, though to Ronan.

"Here," he whispered to the blue warrior. "And I never want to see your fucking face again!"

"My pleasure."

"FUCK OFF!" The manager cursed one last time and then headed back, left the cage and smashed the door to his office shut.

Ronan checked the number on the Comm, reading 2.000.000 with the transaction code 'FCUKYOU', and smirked. He had to admit that he sympathized with the manager. Incompetent subordinates also drove him mad. However, he had won the fight in less than 10 seconds so he had earned this money in a _legal_ way. At least if there was anything like legal regulations on Knowhere. The small promoter was surely doomed nevertheless. So, not very surprising that the man was gone, when Ronan looked back at Star-Lord and the now empty space next to him.

Feeling a sudden pain in his right side, the Kree almost dropped the Comm. Those 8 seconds were quick but surely not his top form. He had fought Fillion's species many times. They were the excersise dolls for young Hala soldiers, thus it came naturally to him which tactic would succeed in the quickest way possible. If he would have fought unhurt, he would have gone for Fillion's throat with the drop kick, ending the fight in less than 3 seconds. In this situation, however, he had prefered to play it safe. His beautiful blue skin wouldn't need any more scars. Luckily, the former champion had been so predicably slow with dodging and reacting, as everyone of his species, that Ronan had seen every vulnerable spot in an instant. He had used his biggest advantage, being smaller, lighter and quicker - which was normally unusual for his 2,90m and 200kg physique - to the highest achievable perfection.

As Ronan stepped out of the cage, he was greeted by curious eyes, which he chose to ignore. Interest in his person always made his pride swell, but right now he didn't feel good. He didn't want any attention. The adrenalin of the fight wore off, making him feel how badly his whole backside was hurting. Some wounds must have ripped open under the bandages.

"Everything allright?" Star-Lord grabbed after Ronan's upper arm, trying to steady him, as he came to a halt next to him. The Terran knew that something wasn't right.

"Let go off me," the Kree growled. Regardless of how wounded he was, he wouldn't dare to show it - not here and especially not after this fight. It wouldn't surprise him if someone would try to rob them sooner or later. 2 million Units was a lot of money around here.

"Take your Comm back," he pressed it into Star-Lord's hands, "Don't check it again. He transfered the right amount onto it."

"Okay! Thanks mate. Let's get some awesome food to celebrate!"

"A Kree doesn't celebrate his victims deaths," Ronan frowned and closed his eyes briefly. He felt how his body began to tingle everywhere, his fingers went slightly numb and suddenly all he could think of was _MedBay_. Opening his eyes and looking around, he realized that blackness was lingering in the corners of his vision, crawling right into his head. _Don't fail me now, body!_ He had to get out of the fighting arena as quick as possible, so he shoved the Terran to the side and aimed for the exit.

"Oi, man, what are you doing?" Peter asked as he bumped into an innocent bystander.

"We will part here."

Surprised, the Terran lifted his eyebrows: "What? What are you talking about?"

"Take those Units. My debt is payed then."

"What debt!?" Star-Lord still didn't get it.

Ronan rolled his eyes annoyed, tempted to react like the manager. He slowly blew out some air to stop his body from shaking: "You nursed me back to a moderate level of health. I owed you. Take the Units."

"Err ... okay? I surely do need them. But we-"

"If we ever meet again ..." Ronan cut off Peter and built up his full physique in front of the smaller Terran, looking down and growling only inches apart from his face, "... you will have a count less than 10 seconds."

That hint Peter got. _Oh shit._

"No need to tell me twice, buddy! I am outta here!" With hands raised in defence, Star-Lord slowly retreated, carefully watching Ronan as he moved backwards. Not that this nutjob would change his mind and end his life right here as well. When he saw that the Kree took off and left the fighting arena, he waited some more moments and then also set into motion, squeezing past all sorts of curiously watching creatures and out of 'Doorway to Hel'.

Outside, the first thing he did was taking a deep breath of fresh air. He hadn't realized how bad the air had been in the arena.

_Wow._

Thinking clearly again and not being so shocked anymore of what had happened in that fighting cage, the Terran ruffled through his reddish-brown hair. It had a strange fascination to it that he had nursed this war machine back to health, now that he thought of it. Maybe it really hadn't been such a great idea? Maybe the others had been right? Ronan was no normal, humanoid being. His power and strenght, his attitude, well, damn, just being able to kill off a guy double his size in less than 10 seconds ... How crazy was that? And how crazy was it that he, Peter Quill, had taken the Kree warrior down back on Xandar just because he had started to _dance_? Boy, if he would have known how immensly strong the Kree is ... he suddenly bursted into laughter, not daring to end this train of thought.

_Well._

_Who cares!?_

Peter was a free man now. No Ronan, no Gamora, no Drax, no Yondu, no Nova Prime, no Xandar for him ever again. He had money - yay!, a working space ship - double yay!, was healthy and free to go where ever he wanted to go - even more yay! That one planet with the spectacular beaches and sunsets he had thought of earlier sounded more than just inviting to him now. Yet, the thing he did was standing totally lost in the streets of Knowhere.

He was overwhelmed by being able to do whatever he wanted to do. During the past months he always had some people around him of whom he had to take care of as the captain fo the Milano. Now, with all the opportunities in front of him and no one to keep him from doing them, he didn't know where to start. Yet, honestly, what nagged him most about all of this, was the fact that he was alone. The no Yondu and no Gamora and no Drax part was hard to accept. He truly hated being alone. He really hadn't foreseen that Ronan would leave him as quickly as this as well. What a bummer. Then again, why did he even think that the Kree would stick around?

_Urgh._

Anyway, he couldn't stand there all day long. He needed some distraction. Clearing his throat, Peter began to stroll along the bustling main street and screened the different establishments for his favourite type of food: the one that wouldn't kill him. The galaxy had lots to offer, but only a fraction of that was suitable for his Terran body and taste buds. He ended up in front of a fast food stall with deep fried candy bars. Persuading himself that he deserved this, he ordered one battered caramel bar to go and bit into it with as much passion as the Kree had devoured that disgustingly sweet Xandarian candy back in the cell of the high security wing. He chuckled lowly. This part of his life he would definitely store under 'never do again'.

As he passed a pub, munching on the last bits of his caramel candy, loud rambling and joyfull roars spilled from the open windows onto the street. He took a closer look at a poster, which hung right next to the wooden entry:

_**ENTERTAINMENT COMPETITION** _

_You think you have something unique to offer?_

_Come in and have a great time!_

_** Best acts will get free drinks **_

_Oh boy! Free booze!_  
Peter rubbed his hands together and entered the bar. It was already quite full, but here and there were still free seats and tables. Close to the stage, however, it got more and more cramped. He decided to sit down at the counter at first and ordered himself a drink. Checking out the competition and rivals wouldn't hurt. He also hadn't had a brainwave yet, hence not knowing what he could contribute. His drink, some highly alcoholic beverage mixed with the galaxies equivalent of CocaCola, arrived and, slowly starting to sip it, he watched the humanoid being on the stage.

It was a female, dancing in a beautifully decorated bikini and light, semi-translucent harem pants. She wore many golden necklaces, bracelets and rings. Her wallowing auburn hair was streaked with shells, pearls and tiny bells, which were ringing rhythmically with every step she made. Her eyes were gorgeous and surely the most beautiful part (next to her cleavage): burning like two embers and flirting with every male creature in this bar, she even winked at Peter. Around her waist were colorful feathers sprouting, swaying with her hips, and the same feathers, though smaller, were also sprouting close from her elbows, inducing the illusion of wings. She danced with big, hand-held fans, hiding her hips, her head, then her chest alternately. It was a mesmerizing sight and Peter found himself shamelessly staring.

When she stopped dancing and bowed down, showing off her cleavage one last time, Peter mused in his thoughts how he would love to stand right behind her. He saw her leaving the stage and walking straight up to a group of men, who were sitting in one of the few VIP areas of the bar. She lowered herself down onto the lap of a very ugly ... _thing_ ... making Peter look away. _Jeez, a companion!_ If he got caught staring at her for too long, he would get into serious trouble. Good that the next act was already lined up and entered the stage.

This time it was a thin, yet athletic light-green male. He had some darker freckles and scales on the side of his face, underarms and feet, which sparkled slightly. His hair was short, frizzy and dark marine, streaked with yellow highlights. The smile he showed was really cute and somewhat shy. In one hand he sported a sword, a Katana to be precise, and with the other one he was waving into the round, greeting the audience.

His act began with lying the sword in front of his feet and crouching down. The lights dimmed a little and he started to move his body, coming slowly into a handstand, then down again into a plank position. Peter saw how the guy's muscles were working under the dark grey shirt. The artist was clearly under control of what he was doing, making it look as if gravity wasn't a thing, and earning a nice applause by doing so. When he started to use the sword, however, the noise inside the bar turned down. Everyone was watching what the act was doing. He moved with the sword, sometimes hacking and slashing, then using it like a pole as a pivoting point and, in the end, where everyone seemed to hold their breaths, he swallowed the sharp object until its shaft met his lips. His final feat was a backflip, while he still had the sword stuck in his throat.

A long applause followed when he removed the sword and had again this cute, shy smile on his lips. He waved and bowed down as well, yet as he wanted to leave the stage, 10 creatures in total shouted to the bartender that they would buy him a drink. The smile on the guy's face brigthened, he bowed down again and threw some hand kisses into the air.

 _So that's how you get the free booze_ , Peter concluded.

Without noticing it at first, he had started to tap continuously and rhytmically onto the side of his cup. Looking at it, he mulled over his possibilities. He wasn't so gracile with his body. If he would try to move like this, he would more resemble a beached whale instead of a graceful dancer. His dancing wasn't good enough for this establishment. Though ... hearing his tapping against the cup ... he knew what he was going to do!

Another act went onto the stage, though the previous one, the sword swallower, had made it to the bar and stood now next to Peter.

"Beautifully done!" The Terran complimented him.

"Yes? Thank you," was almost whispered back as an answer.

 _Oh god, he's so sweet!_ "If I would have known how this works here, I would have bought you a drink as well!"

This time Peter got a smile. "That is really generous of you, but I already have no idea how to get all of these down!" The dancer pointed at the 10 lined up drinks on the counter.

"You got a sword down! What are 10 drinks compared to that!?" Both laughed at that.

After a brief moment, the dancer asked: "So, you're here for the first time?"

"On Knowhere? No. But in this pub and within this competition, yes."

"Then you will go up to the stage as well?"

"Yeah! I just thought of something! Though I may need your help."

"Uuuhm," the sword artist began to stutter, "H-how may I be of help?"

 _God, I WANT TO EAT YOU!_ "I would need some of your cups," Peter tapped his finger against his own, then against three of the sword swallower's lined up ones. "I am going to sing, but need some rhythm as well. Those cups would help me a lot, then I wouldn't have to constantely clap against my forehead."

The shy guy laughed again and then cheered, animating Peter to drink with him: "Then let's get those cups empty for you!"

While they were drinking together, they watched the next couple of acts, which - to be honest - weren't that good. One was trying to pull off a magic show, but all his attempts of winning over the crowd failed - as did the magic tricks. Another act was supposed to be a stand-up comedian, but only half the room understood his jokes, due to different societies and, well, completely wrong Quadrant. They both got more and more bored by the different artists, thus started to talk to each other, because, it seemed, that not only Peter realized how interesting the other one actually was. They talked about how the sword swallower had learned to do his act and how he had ended up here. Almost the same went for Peter; how he had ended up here, but about his singing he let his Awesome Mix speak. The artist, not being so shy anymore after three and a half drinks, and hearing the mixtape, became wide-eyed.

"Wow! This sounds amazing!" His huge, amber puppy eyes shone with joy. "Did you record this?"

Peter, being into his fourth drink, drifted a little away when he focussed to much on those light-green lips. Eventually, he recovered without making this situation awkward and answered: "Nope, not that tape. But I'm gonna sing a song from it!"

Applause suddenly filled the pub when the current act had finished. The Terran seized the moment, jumped up and grabbed after 4 empty cups, holding his own, still half full one: "Which I gonna do right now! And ..." - he finished his drink in one go - "... when I get more drinks than you, you'll owe me a kiss, buddy!"

As the Terran turned around, the cheeks of the sword artist turned slightly turquouise and he slowly touched his lower lip with his fingers. He only whispered 'okay', which Peter couldn't hear anymore, being already too far away.

Peter stumbled over some invisible obstackles but reached the stage before the next act was ready to go up: "He ... ey! HEY!" He heard the creature protest, "It's my turn now!"

"Here, hold this." Very gallant, Peter tossed one cup into the fingers of the creature, which startled it so much that it didn't know what to do. The Terran continued his way up onto the stage, where he lifted his arms as the spotlights zoomed in on him.

"HELLO my dear friends!" He shouted into the round, instantely realizing that he was tipsy. "Oh, wow, this is going to be awesome ..." He giggled and sat down in the middle of the stage, having one of the biggest smiles ever on his face.

"With the courtesy of my friend back there," the Terran pointed at the sword swallower and animated the crowd to applause, "Yeah! He gave me those cups here! Now, I gonna bring you some nice entertainment."

He arranged the cups in front of his legs, cleared his throat and folded his sleeves back. He began to lift the cups one after another, bringing their bottoms and sides down with different angles and thus creating a rhythm. Working his way towards the desired speed, he began to sing:

_I'm taking a ride_

_with my best friend~_

_I hope he never let's me down again_

_..._

The rhythm of the cups and his voice aligned slowly but eventually with perfection. The crowd wasn't sure at first if they liked it, though ultimately they began to cheer and to clap their hands, or tentacles, or other limbs.

_..._

_Taking me where I want to be_

_..._

The melody was sparking interest. It was something new and never heard of around here. Peter's voice also accompanied it with so much passion that the sword swallower got drawn into it and also began to sing as well when the Terran repeated the chorus for a second time.

_We're flying high_

_We're watching the worlds pass us by~_

Whoops. Peter knew that the correct lyrics were 'world' and not 'worlds', yet, somehow, he deemed that this wording actually fitted better into this situation. He enjoyed this moment so much. He loved to sing, to see that others had fun, too, and that they were all having a really great time. After this whole madness that had happend during the last couple of days, these 5 minutes of fame made him feel secure. Between all these intergalactic criminals, outlaws and misfits, he wasn't alone. He was himself. He was where he belonged, and that was all that he needed to feel good. The booze only made it better!

_See the stars, they're shining bright_

_Everything's alright tonight_

He prolonged the end of the song a few times, repeating the last lines over and over, until he took notice that other people had joined him. He put the cups down and began to clap. Smiling, letting the crowd sing for a moment, and then smiling even more when he saw that the shy artist was also singing along. This was just perfect. Though, sadly, he had to end the song eventually and did so by pounding two cups loudly onto the ground. He raised his hands and shouted:

"WOOOH! Thank you SO MUCH!"

The bar was bursting for joy. It seemed that no one ever had sung for them and Peter was so proud that he had pulled off his act so well. Lots of creatures stood up and applauded, others were already shouting to the barkeeper that they wanted to buy this guy a drink, yet, seizing the opportunity, Peter stood up and also shouted to the barkeeper:

"THIS ROUND 'S ON ME!"

Star-Lord stood triumphantly on the stage, locking eyes with the sword swallower and teasingly pointing at him. Turning a little turquoise again, the dancer raised both of his hands in front of his face, though Peter was still able to see the huge smile beneath it. _Oh, I'm so gonna hit that!_ , he reassured to himself, knowing that he definitely had earned more than 10 drinks. As he strode back towards the bar, he got patted on his shoulder multiple times and one female even hugged him. Yet he only had eyes for that shy, little artist waiting for him at the bar. When he finally got back, he quickly paid for the round, though not having the slightest interest in what the bar was charging, because he was already engaged in a kiss with the dancer.

"Let's go somewhere more quiet ..." he heard him whisper close to his ear when their lips parted.

A shiver ran down Quill's spine, willingly anticipating what was to come. _Oh yes!_  
"Please, lead the way," he smiled and gesticulated into the open round.

He got dragged across the bar and ended up in a dimly lit hallway of the establishment. Two stairways were then in front of them. One was leading downstairs to the toilets, as marked by a sign, and the other one led up to some rooms. Well, that was what Peter hoped. He couldn't quite decipher what that sign was meant to show. However, as he felt how he got drawn against the small dancer, who was slightly leaning against the wall, Peter couldn't care less what random signs were supposed to mean. They started with soft smooches, yet the tender pecks increased quickly with intensity as Peter pushed the artist more against the wall. The amber eyes slit shut and the firm muscles began to relax in Peter's arms. Grinning into the kiss, Quill began to explore the athletic body by stroking up and down the sides. _Hnn, you're going to love this, my shy little sword swallower._

As if he had read Peter's mind, the dancer drew the Terran even closer by pulling and ruffling through his hair, moaning lowly into the kiss. After a moment, they parted breathlessly. Smiling but still slowly stroking their lips together, the dancer opened his eyes again.

And cringed anxiously.

" **Oh!!!** "

Peter, being startled as hell, released the dancer abruptly and asked utterly lost, fearing that he had hurt him: "What!? What's wrong?"

"It's your friend!"

"My friend!?" Still being confused, Peter saw that the artist was looking past him. He turned his head slowly, looking over his shoulder. When he saw who was standing behind them, he also cringed and shouted:

"HOLY FUCK!"

He fully turned around, yet held on to the smaller guy: "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!?"

Ronan ignored the Terran's question and continued to stare the poor sword artist into the ground until he yielded:

"I ... I am sorry!" The sword swallower wiggled himself out of Peter's grip, "I didn't know you are with him!" He raised his trembling hands in defence and passed between Ronan and Peter. "I will leave at once!"

"What!?" Peter interfered and clutched the grey shirt of the dancer, trying to hold him back. "You ain't going no where without me!"

"No, please!" the artist grabbed after Peter's hand and released the grip, "I've seen what he can do! I need to go!" The shy and most likely branded-for-his-life guy scurried away and back into the open area of the bar, leaving Peter and Ronan behind.

"The FUCK man," Peter groaned frustrated and angrily, "I really wanted that guy! He totally had me when he swallowed that sword!" Pouting, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

The Kree still didn't say anything, yet he closed in, which made Star-Lord taking a step back. It was now him who had the cold wall against his back.

"Wo-ho, big boy," remembering Ronan's last words, that less than 10 seconds crap, the only thing Peter wanted to do now was to run after the sword artist. "What are you-"

With immense speed, the Kree had both of Star-Lord's wrists in a tight grip and pushed the Terran completely against the wall. His lilac eyes were calm and his usual frown was rather soft than menancing. He eyed the smaller Terran, his lips half parted and muscles more and more relaxing. Slowly leaning in with his body, Ronan began to tilt his head and, suddenly without any forewarnings, sealed both their lips in such a demanding, forcefull way, that Peter stopped to breath.

Peter could taste that Ronan had been drinking - or was that some sort of medicine? - yet what surprised him more was the fact that the Kree had already something going on in his pants. _What the fuck!!!_ He accumulated all his strenght and pushed himself away from the wall. If the Kree could destroy his enemys within 10 seconds in a fighting pit, then Peter surely didn't want to know in what other ways he was destroying his foes! After all, Quill was his foe ... or ... not? Their lips parted and Ronan lost his balance for a moment, as tipsy as he was, which Peter exploited and immediately reversed the situation:

"Ronan! NO!" he growled, pushed himself completely off the wall, twisted his hands free and then, with his whole body, slammed the Kree against the cold surface. "More like this!"

Now being in the dominant place, the Terran gritted his teeth: "There is a reason why I went for the small guy and not that massive creep in the upper right corner of the bar!"

When being drunk, Peter was one of those guys who would easily lose their shit and challenge everyone and their mother. And right now he was so pissed at Ronan, who had driven that cute little dancer away, that he didn't care that the Kree could - and probably would - kill him with his pinky toe in a matter of seconds. He just wanted to get laid! Why had Ronan to interfere?

As Peter heard how the Kree only groaned lowly and looked away, he realized that he must have hurt him. _Oh, damn! His wounds!_ Quill actually wanted to apologize, but as he started to withdraw, he felt how Ronan slung his arms back around him, drawing him into a hug. The Kree tilted his head and started to trace the Terran's neck with his lips, leaving a nice tingle and soft pecks. When he reached the Terran's ear, however, he mumbled lowly: "Then like this ..." and pressed their bodies closer together.

_Oh fuck._

Peter didn't know why, but _that_ had just jump-started his dick.

Of all the things he thought he would score, Quill had never expected that a Kree male would open his legs for him. Neither would he have thought that said Kree would be ... fucking Ronan the Accuser.

 

***

 

The next morning hit Peter like a fist to the face. He wasn't sure if it had been the alcohol, which had destroyed his body, or that blue Kree who was lying next to him in his bed. They had somehow made it to the Milano and, wow, _how_ they had made it ... or did they?

His headache was piercing through his brain like a motherfucker and rubbing over his face and eyes made him see more stars than the night sky actually had. As he moved his arms and hands, he could feel every oh so tiny muscle. His back was hurting, his side was hurting, his belly was hurting. God, what did that Kree do to him? Hadn't they left the bar with the arrangement that Peter was the one who would be in charge? This was ridiculous.

Groaning, he rolled onto his side to have a better look at the Kree. He could barely remeber the stuff they had done, but now that he was seeing the nice blue shine, everything was slowly coming back to his memory. The Kree didn't do this to his body. Oh no. It must have been the alcohol, because what came back into his mind was one of the most tender encounters he ever had with a guy:

Images flickered in front of his eyes and one scene came back at first. He remembered that he had been lying on his back. Ronan had slowly circled his black tongue over his stomach, going lower with each lick and kiss. The lilac eyes had sometimes looked up into his green ones while mouth and tongue had been busy elsewhere, which had driven him exceptionally mad for lust. It had been as if the Kree was challenging him, with his irresistible gaze, to do all the things he wanted. Though as drunk as he had been, he somehow had kept it under control. Probably due to the lingereing fear of getting torn into pieces. Well. At least for some heartbeats, because at one point, he remembered, he had just given in, taken the bald head into his palms and thrusted once, _maybe twice?_ , so deep into Ronan's throat that he truly couldn't comprehend why he was still alive.

Though sometime after that the Kree must have changed position, because the next image that blurred into Peter's mind was that Ronan was sitting on top of him, fully leaning over him while strong hands were ruffling through his hair. The swollen blue lips had been so kissable back then that Peter's moaning had gone a little uncontrolled when they finally had touched his own, clearing his mind of all troubles and letting the Kree rule solely over his pleasure.

Ronan had induced this feeling of complete indulgence. The trained muscles of the warrior had had an unyielding rhythm of perfect massaging, pulling, squeezing ... whatever the Terran could think of, the Kree had been able to do it. The switchbacks of delicate stroking and kissing to riding him so willingly had been robbing him of all air. Though, what had pushed him over the edge, was the moment where Ronan had reared back up, closed his eyes and began to moan as well.

 _Oh man_ , Peter thought, _what a dick move from me_. Letting go when it had started to become good for the Kree. He reached out and touched the upper arm of the sleepy man, slowly stroking up and down.

_Wait._

That hadn't been everything.

Ronan had been grinning at one point.  
Why? What had that been about?  
He had seen that smirk somehow differently, like through a mirrow.  
_Urgh._

...

There ... there! It was coming back! The sleazy grin he had seen was when he had looked up from the sheets. He had been on his knees and - _goddammit Ronan!_ \- the Kree had been behind him, face mirrowing in one of the triangle windows of the Milano. The Kree had reversed their roles and had smiled while taking him from behind! Though, miracelously, Peter wasn't connecting it with pain. He didn't know how Ronan had pulled that of, because it's normally a very rare occasion that Peter would offer his ass, and even then only to guys who were his size. Maybe the alcohol had made him so relaxed that he hadn't felt anything at that moment?

 _Mmmh_ , he mused in his thoughts, _you're one big blue dick. In multiple ways._

Peter closed in and wrapped his arm completely around Ronan's shoulder, pulling him into a hug. At that, the Kree slowly extended his arm as well and returned the embrace.

 _Aw._ "Wake up, man!"

"I am awake."

"Yeah, I see that ..." Peter chuckled lowly, "You wanna have water, too? I am thirsty as hell."

"Yes," Ronan opened his eyes and closed them quickly, "... _ouch_."

"I know what you mean, buddy!" Peter laughed out loud, released the hug and sat up. "Oh god, this is awfull ..." He massaged his temples for a few seconds, then somehow managed to stand up, trembling like a new-born foal, and eventually stumbled after an eternity into the kitchen. He fetched two glasses, filled them both with water and went straight back into his captain's cabin. While he entered, he turned the lights on with his elbow and then sat down onto his bed.

"Here you go," he held one glass into the direction of Ronan, but didn't get a response. "Man, don't sleep. Wake up!"

"I can't move."

"Oh, seriously? Come on! Don't play the victim here. Just extend your arm.."

"No, Terran, I really can not move."

"Jeez, still calling me Terran? You can call me by my name now, you know?"

"The only name I know of you is 'Star-Lord'."

Peter almost spilled his water at that, bursting into laughter. After a few moments though, he regained his breath and answered: "It's Peter."

"Peter, I really can not move."

"Yes, I got that by now," he put both cups onto his media player and ruffled through his hair, still chuckling, "Okay, I actually don't get it. Why can't you move? What's wrong?"

"My backside ..." Ronan groaned, "The MedBay gave me some liquid drug which loosened my muscles but now they're tighter than ever."

"Let me help you with that ..." Peter grinned, got up and took a little tube out of a box, which was standing next to his bed. "Roll onto your stomach."

"I can't ro-" Being quite merciless, Peter ignored Ronan's nagging and just pushed him onto his stomach. He earned a surpressed wail and then some mumblings for that, which he countered in the blue crybabie's native language: "I can understand and speak High Kree, so don't insult me when I am being nice to you."

The Terran straddled his legs and sat down onto Ronan's butt, applied a good amount of earthy-smelling oil on his back and began to rub it into the sore muscles and healing skin. This time, he earned a low whimper.

"Your back is looking alright. Much better than a couple of days ago. No more open wounds."

"Mmh ... good."

"Yeah, really good. You won't need bandages anymore."

"I meant the massage."

"Thanks," Peter smiled softly and kneaded a little firmer. He felt how the blue skin turned warm under his fingers, the oil's ingredients unfolding their soothing effects, and how Ronan began to relax more and more due to that. It took lots of time to loosen up all the knots and tight areas, but eventually he had worked his way down to Ronan's lower back.

"Everything alright?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, there is one thing I really want to know very badly," Peter leaned over and left a kiss on one shoulder. "Why the hell were you so tender last night to me? That wasn't at all what I was expecting. Like ... you know, you're this killer machine and all mean and death on two legs and 'I burn planets' and then-"

"Peter."

"Yeah?"

"Stop."

"Sorry, man. It's just-"

"I know what you mean. It's that I have enough suffering around me that I truly don't need to inflict it upon others when I try to feel something nice for once."

"Mh, I see," Peter mumbled and rested his forehead on the shoulder he just had kissed.

"Also that little artist you were so fond of wanted to rape you."

"WHAT!?" Peter jumped up when he heard that accusation. "What are you talking about?"

"Your body must feel very sore, I assume?"

"Uh, it does ... but ... that guy? Rape me?"

"It's a common tactic and he played it perfectly," Ronan took a pillow and propped it up under his chin, slightly hugging it with both of his arms. "He lead you to believe that he is only a fragile and shy artist, yet he drugged your drinks. I guess you can't remember how we got to the Milano and you probably didn't feel any pain when you were kneeling in front of me. I remember it very clearly that I wasn't tender _at all_ at that moment."

The only answer Peter had for Ronan now were his bright red cheeks. The Kree saw that through the corner of his eye.

"Why are you blushing? I know the reason why I am sore ..."

"Woah, Ronan, stop it!"

The Kree had to chuckle.

"Came in very handy for you, huh? That I was drugged? May I even say that it was you then who exploited it?" Stroking up and down Ronan's sides, Peter felt how goosebumps were following his fingertips.

"I dare to say that we both enjoyed it."

"You're right with that," Peter gave another quick peck onto the blue shoulder but then jolted back up: "I have something for you!"

Almost falling out of bed, he made his way to his desk, collected a piece of paper and laid it in front of Ronan, who had turned his head and had been curiously watching. As the Kree realized what the Terran just had given him, he sat up and took the paper - the photograph - into his hands.

"That is ..." the Kree's complete demeanour and body language had changed in an instant, voice almost breaking, "Why do you have it? I left it back in the Dark Aster?"

"Well, when you held it, you looked so sad that it was torn apart. I figured that it means a lot to you, so I took it and glued it back together." Peter saw how Ronan's fingers slowly stroked over the paper where the older lady, most likely his mother, was imprinted. What he would give to have a photo of his own mum as well. Luckily he had his mixtapes! As he looked back at the Kree's face, he smiled softly again. _This is one rollercoaster of emotions here_ ... He took Ronan into his arms, kissed a small black tear away and began to slowly sing while he petted the bald head:

 

_"I'm taking a ride_

_with my best friend ..."_

 

**Author's Note:**

> "So, Ronan, how come that you knew that the sword dude tried to rape me?"
> 
> "Believe it or not, but even I was young once." Ronan stared at Peter with one of those creepy, empty-eyed glares again, then whispered: " _Mistakes were made._ "
> 
> Peter just stood up and left the room.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> \--- --- ---
> 
> I am travelling until July around India, Nepal and Sri Lanka - that's why I can't update that often.  
> I still smile when I get an email that I recieved a kudo or comment :) Really looking forwards to your opinions on this piece!
> 
> And don't forget my tumblr! :)
> 
>  
> 
> Oh, and this is my amazing script xD (as you'll notice, I changed some things)
> 
> -> Knowhere
> 
> -> Peter and Ronan are strolling along the streets like they don't care  
> -> guy asks ronan to join the pit fights "because y'all buff and ripped, mate"  
> -> ronan agrees under the condition: 2mil units when he kills opponent in less than 10 sec  
> -> tackle - jump onto ripcage - hands around jaw - *tada* decapitated within 8 sec
> 
> -> manager storms out  
> -> "fucking idiot bla dont you see its kree warrior bla"  
> -> gimme your eWallet  
> -> Ronan hands over Peter's  
> -> "Yo, you nursed me back to health now we're good now gtfo of my life"
> 
> -> Ronan stays, Peter leaves the arena  
> -> Peter finds nice comfy bar with an "entertainment competition" do whatever you can to entertain the crowd and earn moneyyyz  
> -> Peter decides to opt in and uses cups and stuff to make music + sing  
> -> Song: Depeche Mode - Never let me down again  
> -> Sad Peter is sad and now also drunk
> 
> -> Starts flirting with a guy who performed as well (swallowing swords) 8D  
> -> "You had me when you swallowed that first sword, dude."  
> -> Ronan being all like *SURPRISE MOTHAFUCKA*  
> -> Sword-dude: "Omg, didn't know you with that killer machine thingy I'm outta here"  
> -> Peter: "Ronan NO! I spend like two drinks on that guy."  
> -> Ronan: "I dont even know your real name but YES!"
> 
> -> THEY KISS Ô_Ô!!
> 
> -> Peter: wtf dude, not like this  
> -> pushes Ronan against the wall  
> -> "There was a reason why I hit on that little guy and not that flesh-mountain in the right corner who creeps the hell outta me" ~ meaning Peter tops  
> -> Ronan *is drunk* e_e yeah whatever, draws Peter closer and kisses him again  
> -> Peter: 8DDDD dis gunna be guud
> 
> -> Peter wakes up: *w*  
> -> Ronan like: I'm so broken Dx everythings hurts hurr durr  
> -> Peter *suddenly* oh yeah, i feel it, too ..... o_e .... e_e ..... e_x .... x_x  
> -> conclusion: switches-bitches  
> -> Peter: gonna rub you with some oils and stuff so your skin heals  
> -> also I took that photograph of yours and glued it together  
> -> Ronan: ._. ............. T_T .....  
> -> Peter: naaaaw *rubs back*


End file.
